Obsession
by pantedgieQueen13
Summary: Origin request by Samantha27. So tasty, so pure, so meaty...but, why this food? Why? I...don't understand...but, then again, who really can? After all, favorites can happen purely by accident... ONESHOT


Obsession

One quiet afternoon or another doesn't make a difference to me. Eggman's not attacking, all my friends are leaving me alone, I'm snoozing in the grass with nothing better to do, resting up for occasions when I'll need the energy.

Hey, what do you know? My mind starts shifting towards food. Why? Guess cause I'm always hungry, really. I just tend to shrug it off. Before you criticize, just think back a moment. Do you know who I am? If you do, then don't laugh your head off when I tell you that I'm always hungry. I mean, I'm Sonic the Hedgehog! Haven't you heard of me?

Ah, chilidogs. My favorite food of all time. Well…it didn't _used_ to be that way. In fact…food was my enemy for the longest time. And…I don't even know why, to this day, that was.

When I was five years of age, times were tough. I feared beatings, so I took what I could in secret. After all, I had to live to get my revenge on the one man who had destroyed everything I held dear: the parents, friends, and home I barely remembered.

Food in those days was like some kind of treasure. If you didn't have it, you were considered poor, even if you had money. And, not many people liked to share. So, what was a poor, starved street rat to do?

Steal.

I had no conscience back then, no king. I abided by rules I'd made up myself; steal and you will eat. It was a rule I lived by for many years. I guess I did have a king, but this one seemed forever grumpy and content to keep my five-year-old body from sleep.

Oh, I was a very weak child. Lack of nutrition does that to you. I think I was half bald at seven when a young woman found me. She lifted me in her arms, I struggling limply therein, and presented me to what I supposed to be her husband.

Now tired of struggling, I observed the cheery man, a hedgehog like myself of similar coloring, only his blue was much like…well…much more of a rich coat than mine.

If I take a look at myself now…if I run my hand down the bright blue fur…no. I shook my head, chuckling.

For, you see, the blue I am right now could be so much more vivid, so much more beautiful, so much more worthy of adoration and love and, sometimes, fear. If you had seen the man's coloring as I had, you would understand. The strands of his blue fur seemed to sparkle like stars!

Within the flashback, I heard the woman talking to the blue one (I called him that, and often still do call him that, back then) about what to do with me. Before I knew it, I was once again leaving the comfort of my home. So, I did what any self-respecting child would do.

I cried. For I was powerless to do otherwise. I was so undernourished I could barely count to ten, much less fight or bite or kick! No, my voice, hoarse from mistreatment, was my only weapon. And, I used it until it cracked and came from my lips no more. Exhausted, I found myself falling asleep on the strange woman's shoulder.

The journey back to my third and final home is a blue to me, and most of my life before now is. But, I do remember why I like chilidogs so much.

I was afraid to eat something I hadn't gotten myself. And, now being part of a family, I was no longer providing for myself. To this day I'm still weary of eating in strange places where others serve me. I don't even know what it is that I'm afraid of exactly!

Anyway…

My foster parents had no idea why I wouldn't eat. They tried everything, but for two weeks, I refused to eat anything they gave me. And, I was learning manners, that to steal is bad, so I was dying of starvation and no longer helping myself either.

On the day I was to die of starvation (for the doctors had told my "parents" that, if they didn't coax food into me, within hours I would die), my father, distraught, tried one last tactic. And, guess what food he gave to me?

I still remember the vividness of this, my first memory of my most favored food. How juicy, warm, wet, and comforting it was to me. With my body starved and my stubborn will broken, I devoured it in two bites and asked for more. My parents, quite surprised and pleased, gave me all I wanted until I was full. And, that is why I like chilidogs so much.

Hmmm. All this talk about food is making me hungry. I think I'll go grab a chilidog before I continue my nap.


End file.
